


Highway to Hell

by jrenbar



Series: The Madmen of Baker Street. [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF John Watson, BAMF Sherlock, Everybody loves John, Hurt/Comfort, John really is amazing, Kidnapping, M/M, Moriarty's Web, PTSD, Post Reichenbach, Torture, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-20
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-03-18 19:20:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3580959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jrenbar/pseuds/jrenbar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John knew all about the the truth of Sherlock's fall, he even helped to plan it. People always thought little of his intelligence and abilities. That was the way he wanted it, then they would never see him coming. While Sherlock's away taking out Moriarty's web around the world John stays in London to continue the charade of Sherlock's death. He takes up his own mission taking down Moriarty's London division and winds up desperately in need of Sherlock's help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dead or Alive

1\. Dead or Alive

 

“Ah bugger!” Greg exclaimed loudly as he mopped up his morning coffee that he had just inconveniently spilled all over his desk. It was fortunate that he had cleaned most of the case files off of his desk last night he supposed.

“Sir,” Donovan had poked her head in the door.

“Nothing big just spilled my coffee I swear-“

“No sir there has been a kidnapping.” She interrupted him. Greg continued to mop up the mess and said in a weary tone.

“Not our division.” The last kidnapping case had been the one that Moriarty had orchestrated and Greg wanted nothing more to do with kidnapping cases after that.

“No sir, you will want this.” Something in her tone made him finally look up. Sally’s eyes held fear and panic and her posture was tense. He sighed and silently got up to follow her. If she was this wound up about it had to be something terrible.

Greg waited in the bullpen eyes fixed on the big screen. He started to get more nervous as he noticed some of the worried glances his fellow cops where giving him.

“We received this video 20 minutes ago sir.” Sally said quietly by his side. Taking a deep breath she signaled for the video to play.

What Greg saw took his breath away. He stepped forward a bit muttering a soft “John” that only Sally could hear. John was hanging by his arms in a concrete room. His head was down so his face wasn’t visible but his golden blonde head and army tattoo clearly visible on his left arm left no doubt to Greg who it was.  A man dressed entirely in black was beating him. At every punch Greg felt himself flinch although John was emitting no sound of pain. The man stopped and walked off camera.

 _“Determined to be brave huh? Well let’s see how brave you are when I do this.”_ His voice was deep and harsh. The glint of steel caught the camera as knife was brought to John’s chest.

 _“Now, tell me where Sherlock Holmes is.”_ After a minute with no answer the man swiped the blade clean and fast across Johns side. This was repeated six more times and each time John said nothing, not even reacting to the cuts. Greg was beginning to wonder if he was even alive _._ Right before the seventh cut John finally answered the man.

 _“Dead”_ John’s voice was soft but still strong.  The attacker screamed with rage and made one final cut. The video feed abruptly ended. Greg wasn’t sure how long after that he stood there.

“Sir…” He heard by his side. He looked down at Donovan and saw the same horrified expression that was on probably on his face. He shook himself and drew in a deep breath.

“How did we get that video?” He asked trying to keep his voice calm.

“It was left taped to the station door sir.”

“Alright, get that security footage and comb through it see if we can’t find when and who left it. Also get a team together to head over to Baker Street to see if anything was left that might lead us to him. We need to find out where and when he was taken. Have someone construct a list of abandoned buildings, warehouses shelters, and factories. We won’t be able to narrow it down till we have something else but at least we will have it when we need it.” Greg sighed and combed his hands through his hair. “Don’t let anyone disturb me, I have a phone call that I have to make. Don’t leave for Baker Street without me though.”

Donovan nodded and turned starting to snap orders left and right. Greg walked back to his office and sat at his desk. John had been doing so well since Sherlock’s death. After a few months of ire at the police force he had eventually forgiven them. They were just following orders he said, for a long time after though he was still hurt and depressed about his flat mate’s death. He had begun to heal however and was starting to move on. John frequently went to the pub with Greg and some of the other Scotland yarders. He also was known to just pop by to offer any help he could.

Last week when Sherlock had been redeemed Greg had thought that John would be mad all over again, angry that it was to late to save Sherlock. John surprised him again with being calm and ever forgiving. They had all had a good time at the pub that night. He smiled fondly remembering John’s karaoke routine.

            Greg sighed and pulled open a drawer. At the back he found the piece of paper he wanted. A number scribbled in neat block handwriting. With the name Mycroft Holmes printed above it.

 

 

 

            John grunted as his captor pulled him roughly down from his hanging position to the floor. That really wasn’t so bad he thought, which could only mean one thing. His torturer had a lot in store for him and therefore couldn’t chance him dying early on. This was going to be a long drawn out death. Wonderful.

            “Now don’t go getting any ideas Johnny boy, I am going to take your restraints off and if you don’t struggle I’ll give you something special!” Victor, his captor, taunted him.  John flinched at the nickname Moriarty had always used. He had never liked being called Johnny and these days he liked it even less.

            John stayed still has his arm and leg restraints where removed. Despite his eagerness to break out of here he made no movement at all. The pain was actually nothing at all to him. He had had worse on many occasions. His plan was to lull his captor into a false sense of security so it would be easier to surprise him later. John also wanted more information. As far as he new this man was Moriarty’s last operative in London but he wanted to make sure. If the man slipped up or if John could get him talking he could lead to others.

            “Now since you were such a good boy here is your treat.” His captor had tied something around his upper arm tightly. John lifted his head to reply.

            “I don’t want it.” He said in harsh tone. Pain medication would only cloud his brain and he wanted to be able to think properly. There was a cold laugh as a needle plunged quickly into his vein. John was utterly unprepared for it and watched as the medicine was pushed into him.

            “I am afraid Johnny that you would have gotten this whether you had been good or not.” The man continued to laugh at the look on John’s face. His body began to relax and his mind started to cloud over. This was not like any medicine he had ever experienced. Confusion swept through him. “No not medicine, although your Sherlock certainly thought it was for a while.”

            Cocaine John thought. This bastard had injected him with drugs? That was unexpected. To what purpose was this? Getting him to feel happy and optimistic about torture? How did this factor into his endgame? John’s thoughts raced through his head slowly being calmed to just feelings.

John began to recognize the effects of the high that he had only read about before, take hold of him. His spirits were up and he felt like he could withstand hours of this mans feeble attempts at torture.

            “This is my own little concoction however, which is laced with a paralytic.” The man continued, “Can’t have you moving about while I get other things ready now can I? You better get used to the feeling Johnny boy.” To late John realized that he could not move at all now. His mind focused in on that last tidbit of info however. Addict his mind said. The man’s goal was to make him an addict. He vaguely heard the man leave his cell.

            He let his eyes fall closed determined to try to sleep so he would be refreshed for tomorrow. This new development did not bode well.

 

 

 

 

Mycroft Holmes causally answered his phone, “Hello?” The number had been unknown but that didn’t mean anything. Sherlock frequently called from unknown numbers.

“Hello Mr. Holmes this is DI Lestrade down at Scotland Yard.” The man introduced himself.

“Yes, my brother always spoke well of you. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Well sir, Uh John gave me this number to call if something ever, well I uh-”

“John’s been taken hasn’t he?” Mycroft cut him off quickly.

“Yes.” Greg sighed into the phone.

“I’ll meet you at Baker Street.” Mycroft replied and then quickly hung up. He had told John this could happen. Mycroft called for a car and waited until he was seated comfortably with Anthea by his side before making the call he new he would have to make.

“Brother mine I am an hour away from London could you not wait to pester me until then?” Sherlock all but yelled into the phone.

“Sherlock, he’s been taken.” He heard his brother immediately calm.

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” He clipped.

“Baker Street brother.” Was all Mycroft could say before his brother had ended the call. Mycroft sighed and massaged his temples. These two were going to be the death of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first fic so please leave feedback. I am open to requests and suggestions which may or may not be taken. But please I would love some feedback good or bad!
> 
> also make note that I have no idea what a cocaine high is like, so this is purely what I could find on the subject matter with a little bit of my own imagination thrown in.


	2. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft gives some information, Greg gets angry, and Sherlock shows he cares. Meanwhile John gets more torture.

2\. Revelations

 

            Greg was quiet as he drove Donavon and himself to Baker Street. John. Why was it always John? He thought. Baker Street was a death trap Greg thought bitterly. In the months following Sherlock’s death four dead bodies had been found in apartments that surrounded 221B. The evidence had conclusively shown that each person had been a hired gun. All the guns, as it were, had been trained on 221B. That had been Scotland Yard’s first tip that maybe they ought to re-investigate the Richard Brook/Moriarty debacle.

            Greg had also been prompted to try to get John to move. Four snipers had been ready to shoot him at any time. John had seemed unfazed by the news and could not be persuaded to move away. Greg couldn’t understand it. Staying there had to just bring up terrible memories for John and then it had become a death trap as well. In the following months after the snipers had been found John had had multiple break-ins to Baker Street. Not to mention the times he had come by Scotland Yard with a bruise or cut on his face. No matter what threat came at him John simply would not leave Baker Street. Greg had finally resigned himself to it and had simply sent more police cars to drive by Baker Street just for reassurance. That had helped to catch two break-ins to which John had been most appreciative of.

Greg and his team arrived at Baker Street to find Mycroft Holmes already waiting. He stood on the steps like a statue holding a black umbrella in one hand.

“Mr. Holmes.” Greg greeted him as he walked up to the door.

“Just you and your Sergeant may stay, send the rest home, they won’t be needed.” Mycroft paused, “There are some things that have to be shared that must be kept confidential.”

Surprised Greg nodded and turned to his team. He motioned for Sally to come with him and dismissed the rest as he was asked. He followed Mycroft Holmes up to 221B, Sally right at his heels.

They walked into the flat and looked around; nothing seemed out of place, no obvious signs of a struggle. Mycroft cleared his throat.

“If you will just sit for a moment before searching this flat I was serious when I said there were things I needed to divulge to you.”

Greg and Sally sat obligingly on the sofa and looked expectantly at Mycroft. Now that Greg really looked at Mycroft the man looked tired and sad. Greg had only seen him twice before now and each time the man had a carefully controlled expression. This new emotion filled Mycroft was a bit of a shock.

“After my brother uh well we won’t go into that first.” He started cryptically, “John came to me about two months after saying that he would like to help with any jobs that I had for him. I had asked of him before for his services as a Doctor. This is what he was referring to. Sometimes missions in government go wrong and trustworthy medical men are needed, that is all I am able to say on the matter but I am sure you catch my drift on what sort of jobs I had for him.”

“So I am guessing all of those ‘Medical conferences’ he was going to were just covers.” Greg replied putting two and two together. Mycroft nodded sadly.

“Yes I am afraid they were, although the missions were indeed medical in nature most of the time.”

“Most of the time?” Sally asked.

“Can’t elaborate on that quite yet but you will know within the hour what I meant.” She nodded and Mycroft continued, “ Due to the nature of some of these missions occasionally he came into danger and well while my people are very good a few of these problems occasionally followed him home.”

“All those break-ins.” Greg commented. Mycroft just nodded solemnly.

“I suspect that is why he gave you my number.”

“In the video we received of him his captor mentioned Sherlock.” Sally questioned. That was true Greg thought, how was this connected to whatever Mycroft had John doing?

It was Mycroft’s turn to be surprised apparently. His eyebrows rose in shock at Sally’s statement.

“Captor? Video?” He questioned before his mobile went off. Mycroft stood and answered the phone promptly disregarding his questions. He listened for a short time then said “Very well.” Before ending the call. “That was my team, it seems that this kidnapping is completely unrelated to the last …‘conference’ I sent John on. They are still searching the CCTV cameras for footage of him being taken however.” He paced over to the window looking out onto the street. “We still have about five minutes before I will know if all of my sources are ignorant of the reasoning behind this event. Until they arrive we will wait here.” He finished.

Greg processed this and nodded. He turned to Sally who looked as confused as he felt.

“Why don’t you look around here see if anything turns up, I’m going to search the kitchen.” She nods and stands.

Greg walks into the kitchen and again everything looks as is should, well marginally as it should. The table is devoid of most of Sherlock’s equipment. No experiments lay out or notebooks scattered about. Sherlock’s microscope is still on the table, presumably John had need of it. A single cup of tea sat beside it half empty. Greg looked down the hall. Sherlock’s door was actually open. He walked towards it. Every time he had visited it in the past it had been closed.

He stopped at the doorway and took the scene in. The bed was a mess and there was a pile of clothes in a corner. Startled he recognized most of the clothes lying about were Johns. John must have moved down here he thought. He moved into the room and looked into the wardrobe. Sure enough John’s clothes were now inside, right alongside Sherlock’s expensive suits. John clearly wasn’t moving on as well as he had thought.

“Sir!” He heard Donovan call from the sitting room. He turned and walked back to find Mycroft facing away from the window finally. He looked like he was preparing himself to tell them something. Donovan was standing in front of the fireplace holding Sherlock’s skull waiting expectantly for something to happen.

“There is one last piece of information that I should tell you and it is sure to shock you so you might consider sitting down.”

“What can be more shocking than what I have had to deal with today?” Greg thought back to the video of John and Mycroft’s earlier revelations. “Is Sherlock somehow alive??” He asked impulsively.

“Actually yes.” He heard a deep familiar baritone voice to his right.

 

 

Sherlock arrived at 221B as fast as he could. He looked up to the window to see his brother watching for him. Racing up the stairs he heard Lestrade’s irate voice asking his last question. Sherlock couldn’t help but answer him even if Gavin did mean it rhetorically.

When he spoke and stepped into the room his brother just rolled his eyes. Sally gasped and dropped his skull, which skittered to the floor.

“Do try not to break my things.” He said quietly moving his gaze to Lestrade. Lestrade was staring at him in openmouthed shock. As he stood and waited for Lestrade to respond he calculated that the chances of him getting punched probably just went from 50% to 70%. After another minute of silence Lestrade was still staring like a gaping idiot. Sherlock was getting rather tired of waiting for whatever was coming.

“Lestrade while that is an excellent impression of Anderson at a crime scene I would like to be getting on with finding John.” Lestrade snapped his mouth closed at this and walked towards Sherlock. 70% to 80% chance now. Lestrade stopped right in front of him and quickly wrapped Sherlock in a hug.

Unexpected Sherlock thought. Sherlock looked to his brother who looked rather disappointed that he had not been hit. After awhile Lestrade let go then reared back his arm and punched Sherlock in the jaw.

Sherlock’s head jerked back at the punch. It was a good one, he would definitely have a bruise there before the days end.

“Do you know what you did him when you left?” Lestrade seethed. Sighing Sherlock moved past him rubbing his jaw.

“You really have no idea.” He replied.

“Actually I think I do! He was distraught and depressed for months. Do you know he even punched me once!!!! He moved into your room for Christ’s sake!” Lestrade was ranting now.

“John knew.”

“He what?” Lestrade stopped cold in the middle of the room.

“He helped me plan it Lestrade. After that stunt on the roof you saw what you were meant to see, a man broken by grief. It was all a magic trick.” Lestrade stepped closer to him again and punched him so hard he fell back against the wall and hit his head.

 

 

 

            Sally was shocked when Sherlock made his appearance she was even more shocked when Greg hugged him and subsequently punched him. She watched and listened as Sherlock explained and Greg threw another punch at him. Sherlock collapsed against the wall at the second punch. 

            Greg sighed and looked at Sally. “Help me get him to the sofa.” She crossed the room and the two of them wrangled Sherlock to sit on the sofa.

            “Gavin as much as I understand your need to punch me can we pause fight club until after John is safe?” Sherlock said irately. Greg grunted in agreement and went into the kitchen.

            “How do you know about fight club?” Sally asked him with a questioning stare. Sherlock had never gotten pop culture references before. It was rather alarming to hear him use one. Greg had returned and unceremoniously dropped a bag of frozen vegetables in Sherlock’s lap.

            “It’s John’s favorite movie.” He answered quietly taking the bag and holding it to his face.

            Sally sat next to him on the sofa and looked back at Greg and Mycroft. Sally had long ago started to change her mind about Sherlock. She still didn’t know how John put up with him when he seemed so devoid of human emotion. His quiet admission of John’s tastes showed that he did care if it was only about one person.

            “Explain and it’s Greg not Gavin. Thought John would have drilled it into you by now.” Greg finally said in a calmer manner.

            “Right right, well we had been planning it for a couple of months. Ever since I had figured out Moriarty’s end game really. It was the easiest solution that we had. Let Moriarty think he had won and while everyone believed me to be dead I would take down his remaining organization. I originally wanted John to come with me but it was his idea to stay behind. He said it would cement people's belief in my death if he was to hang about and look grieved. When all but Moriarty’s London contacts remained I was going to return here where we would tackle them together.”  
            “When were you supposed to return originally?” Greg asked.   

            “Today incidentally.” Greg snorted and looked to Mycroft.

            “So those other missions that he did, was that to help him.” Greg asked. Sherlock snapped his attention to his brother.

            “Essentially yes. To help him or patch him up whatever Sherlock needed.” Mycroft nodded.

            “You had him doing other things than that.” Sherlock said dangerously.

            “He offered Brother mine. I denied him for as long as possible before he threatened me.”

            “How could he possibly threaten you into doing something? John wouldn’t hurt a fly!” Greg exclaimed incredulous.

            “Greg while I know you are friends with John there are quite a number of things about him you are unaware of.” Sherlock said “Now have you searched the flat for anything that might help?”

            “Just down here, I was going to check upstairs but then you arrived. Although since he moved into your bedroom there probably isn’t anything there.”

            Sherlock gave him a pitying look and made his way upstairs.

 

 

 

            Greg caught the look and wondered why he should be pitied for that comment. Rolling his eyes he followed the lanky detective. He could hear Sally and Mycroft not far behind.

            They reached John’s old room and found Sherlock staring at the chaos that reigned. The walls were covered in notes and pictures and clippings. The desk had piles of papers and files. Looking down at the bed he saw a layers of dust that made Lestrade wonder how long John had been sleeping downstairs. Perhaps before the fall, his heart clenched. Lestrade glanced absently at one of the pictures and noted a red line through the person in it.

            “What the hell is all this about?” He finally asked Sherlock.

            “Moriarty’s web. His London web. He was supposed to wait for me….” Sherlock sounded shocked and slightly mortified. “This has to be why. Something here got him kidnapped.”

            Sally was the only one that was moving about the room. Looking at some of the notes and pictures. She turned to look at Sherlock.

            “Who is he? He is the only one whose picture isn’t crossed out as far as I can tell.” She pointed at the center of the one wall. Sherlock strode forward and peered at the picture.

            “Victor Trevor” Was all Sherlock said before slipping into his pensive thinking face his eyes roaming over the information-plastered wall. Sally had continued to look about the room and had gasped when she opened a small chest in the corner. Greg walked forward to see what had startled her. Inside the chest were a number of serious looking weapons and some rather deadly looking knives.

            “What on earth?” he looked questioningly at Mycroft.

            “Soldier” Mycroft said with a look that implied that he wouldn’t be getting any more explanation any time soon. Greg was about to demand more of an explanation when Sally’s phone buzzed.

            “Donovan” she answered. He waited as she listened and watched her face drain of color. “Sir we’ve been sent another video.” At this Sherlock snapped towards them.

            “Video?” He questioned.

            “We received a video this morning of Dr. Watson being held. That’s how we knew he was missing. The video was uh well…” She stuttered looking at Lestrade.

            “He was being tortured.” Greg said simply with a hard look at Sherlock. Sherlock visibly blanched at this news.

            “We need to get to Scotland Yard now.” With that Sherlock raced from the room.

 

 

 

 

            John slowly woke to find himself tied to a chair. He blinked and looked around the room. It had more light than it did earlier. He looked to be in some kind of factory as far as he could tell. There was a pile of old machinery in the corner and a set of stairs leading up to an office of sorts. There was lights and noise coming from the office. Victor must be up there for now John thought. In the right top corner of the room he saw a red light. Of course the bastard would be filming this.

            He took a damage assessment of his body. The cuts weren’t deep and the pain could be easily ignored. His torso was covered in bruises and while he had managed to subvert most of the pain when he had received them, now they were aching quite a lot. He used a technique that Houdini had used long ago, by breathing out all of the air in your lungs and tightening the muscles you could take a strong punch to the gut and not feel a thing. That particular technique had been quite useful in the army.

            He moved his hands experimentally in the restraints delighted that he was no longer paralyzed. His head ached and his body was starting to feel extremely cold.

            “I see you are coming down again huh?” He looked up to see Victor making his way down the stairs. “Well round two has come about. Are you sure you don’t want to save yourself the trouble and tell me where Sherly is? Hmmm?”

            “Piss off.” John hissed back. Victor slapped him in response.

            “Oh well worth a try. Game number two is a going to be fun.” John watched as Victor lit a cigarette. He walked towards John taking a long drag before taking the cigarette and putting it out on John’s right shoulder. It hissed and sizzled as it burnt it’s way into his skin. Victor calmly let it drop to the floor before pulling out another cigarette and repeating the process. John clenched his jaw at each burn but continued to stare Victor face to face. He needed to make sure that Victor kept his eyes away from his hand as he left a message to Sherlock. He had no doubt that Victor was sending these videos to someone. That was how Victor always tormented his victims. Took a loved one and tortured them to death while sending videos of the fact to the real victim

            20 cigarette’s later Victor let the empty pack fall to the floor and moved to the side to grab something else. John looked down at his arm at the neat row of burns, ten burns per line. This man has some serious OCD John thought. He signaled a new message to Sherlock as he watched Victor return with a long metal stick. The end of which glowed red hot. Hell he knew where this was going.

            This time he was unable to keep any pain from escaping him as the hot metal branded his shoulder. 


	3. Observations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where Greg is still a little clueless and Anderson is able to shine a light on things for him while Sherlock lets it slip to everyone that he is capable of emotion.

3\. Observations

 

            After the whole department had settled down somewhat over the sudden and rather dramatic appearance of Sherlock Holmes, Greg was able to corral the group around the large projection screen. He looked to where Sherlock was standing, his bother Mycroft slightly behind him. Sherlock nodded to Greg to start the new video.

            The image flickered as John came into focus. He was tied to a chair this time and looking directly at the camera. He began to shift in his chair checking restraints and damage it seemed.

            _“I see you are coming down again huh?” John’s head snaps up to the voice._

            Greg heard Sherlock’s breath hitch and saw as Sherlock took a few steps towards the screen looking for something.

            _“Well round two has come about. Are you sure you don’t want to save yourself the trouble and tell me where Sherly is? Hmmm?”_

 _“Piss off.”_ John throws back at the man _._ Sherlock chuckles quietly, even Greg can’t contain a smile at that oh so typical John response. His face hardens when the man slaps John for it.

_“Oh well worth a try. Game number two is a going to be fun.”_

The man then proceeds to light a cigarette and burn it out on John’s shoulder. He repeats this 20 times on screen and each time Greg clinches his fist tighter and tighter. John doesn’t let a peep out though; he just keeps calmly staring at the man. The man stops and moves off camera briefly. John looks down at his shoulder then hastily flicks his eyes to the camera once before looking back at the man.

Greg’s eyes widen as he sees the man holding a red hot metal rod. The man brings it to John’s shoulder and presses it to his skin. This time John can’t keep it all in and lets out a long tortured groan. Again the camera snaps off.

Greg looks to Sherlock and sees a grimace of pain before he steels himself under a mask of indifference. Sherlock turns around and looks at his brother.

“There should be footage of him taken, it was outside of his surgery find it.”

“Rest assured brother I already have people on it.” Mycroft fixes his brother with a steely gaze before moving off to the side to make a call.

“How on earth can you possibly know that?” Anderson asks flabbergasted. Anderson has only been back recently after having his own sort of break after Sherlock ‘died’.

“John told me.” Sherlock replied casually looking around to everyone as if it should be obvious.

“Sherlock are you bloody just making this up???” Greg asked incredulously.

“No, he signaled to me a message during the videos. Play it back and you’ll see he signs a message. Idiots, what did you think I could read his mind?” Sherlock scoffed.

            “Signs, how?” Sally asks.

            “We developed many signals when working together but this one is rather easy, it’s just American sign language. While Victor is burning him he uses his hand to sign a message to me.”

            Greg looks at the screen where an officer is playing back part of the video. Sure enough John’s hand is moving through a series of movements.

            “How does he know American Sign Language?” Greg asks curiously.

            “He learnt it in Afghanistan from one of the American’s he worked with. When I found out I had him teach me.” Sherlock said dismissively.

            “What does he say?” Sally asks.

            “He says that he’s in a factory, he’s been there for about 40 hours now as far as he can tell and the man is Victor who may or may not be working alone.”

            Sally looks at the screen, which now shows the last scene of John’s torture.

            “What about that one” she asks pointing to the still frame. It had been the only one of John’s signals that he held for more than a few seconds. In fact John was giving that particular signal for the last thirty seconds of the video. John’s hand was stilled with his pinky, pointer finger and thumb out while his remaining two fingers are clinched inward.

            “That one is of no importance.” Sherlock says vaguely turning his attention back to the video. “Back to the beginning please.” He asks the video specialist.

            Sally looks over to Mycroft who has just stepped back from his private call and had heard this last bit of the conversation. She has no doubt that he knows what this means.

            “I love you.” Mycroft supplies quietly in a bored tone that is betrayed by a pained look in his eyes. Sally looks over to Greg who had also heard this quiet reply. Greg looks resigned and almost disappointed. Confused Sally focuses on Sherlock again.

            “The factory has two stories at least and one of the floors oversees the ground floor.”

            “How can you tell?” Anderson asks.

            “At the beginning John is looking up toward the camera then switches his gaze when Victor begins to talk. If you watch John his head follows the man as if Victor is traveling downwards, so he’s coming down a staircase. Obvious.”

            “What does he mean when Victor says ‘I see you are coming down’?” Greg asks. Sherlock looks pained again then quickly puts his mask back in place. Not quite quickly enough Greg thinks as he sees Sally and Anderson exchange a shocked glance.

            “Victor is drugging him. If you look closely on his right arm there is track mark.” Dead silence follows this statement as everyone in the vicinity stops in their tracks. Greg clears his throat and people resume their tasks.

            “Donovan, tell them to update that list of possible holding places with Sherlock’s new criteria. With any luck that will narrow down where he is considerably.” She nods and moves to the side to relay the information. Greg watches Sherlock pace the room in deep contemplation.

            “Sherlock stop pacing and talk.” Mycroft says gently. Sherlock stops and looks at his brother with contempt.

            “I can’t there isn’t anything else to be gotten from this video. Which is why I’m agitated. I can’t let him go through this again.”

            “This?” Anderson asks curious.

            “Yes this. Torture.” Sherlock says flippantly.

            “Again????? Sherlock he was never tortured when he was kidnapped by Moriarty.” Greg says confused. Sherlock gives him a pitying glance again.

            “Soldier Lestrade.” Mycroft repeats his earlier phrase.

            “You keep saying that like I should bloody well know what it means!!!” Greg says taking an angry step towards Mycroft.

            “Take a moment and deduce from what you know Lestrade, soldier really should be your biggest clue here.” Sherlock snaps at him.

            “Special forces?” Anderson asks with a questioning gaze at Sherlock.

            “Bravo! Damn Lestrade, even Anderson got there before you! Now would you stop letting your sentiment cloud your judgment?” Sherlock sneers. Greg makes a move towards Sherlock. Sally intervenes by stepping in the middle of the circle.

            “BOYS!” She shouts. “ALL of us here love and respect the doctor but none of this is helping. We have had two videos delivered to us in less than 24 hours. Now stop the petty fights and focus!” Greg and Anderson manage to look suitably chastised while Mycroft retreats to his ever-stoic mask. Sherlock grins and runs at Sally. He hugs her briefly before turning to the video tech.

            “Brilliant Sally! I forgot the first video!!!” He motions to the tech to play the video. Sally looks at Greg and Anderson bewildered by what just happened. Anderson smiles a little and Greg just stares at the screen again watching John get punched repeatedly. He walks over to Sherlock.

            “How can you watch him getting beaten without sentiment coming into it?” He asks quietly.

            “Well for one those punches aren’t hurting John nearly as bad as you think.”

            “What do you mean by that?” Anderson said behind them.

            “Watch John’s breathing, he only takes a breath every 40 seconds. The rest of the time he is holding it. It’s a trick he learned a long time ago. Houdini used the same one. He exhales his breath and tightens his stomach muscles bracing for each hit. It doesn’t prevent all damage but it severely lessons it.” He smiles.

            “That’s brilliant!” Greg smiles back feeling a little bit lighter.

            “John knows how to take a punch Lestrade, I shouldn’t worry about that. The burns and the cuts however are another matter.” Sherlock says with a frown. “That knife he’s using looks military grade. Victor could have a military background however that doesn’t seem extremely likely.” Sherlock lapsed into silence.

            “I have the complied CCTV footage. Anthea is bringing it up.” Mycroft says from across the room. Sherlock moves to put his coat and scarf on again.

            “I need to go back to Baker St. I need to examine John’s wall again.” He tells no one in particular.

            “I guess we’ll just sort through all the footage yeah?” Greg calls after him. Sherlock doesn’t respond, merely waving his hand dismissively. Greg gives Sally a pleading look and she nods grabbing her coat and running after Sherlock. “Alright boys lets get down to work.” He sighs.

 

 

            John awoke on the floor of the factory this time. He groaned and rolled onto his back. His hands were bound in front of him and he could feel something heavy around one of his feet. Opening his eyes he looked down and his suspicions were confirmed. There was a thick iron shackle around his right foot, which was connected to a ring in the floor by a heavy chain. John looked up at Victor’s hideaway. He could hear muffled talking and hiss of a soda can being popped. So Victor did have others watching and helping in this little endeavor.

            John reached down and grabbed the chain and used it to pull himself into a sitting position. He arched his back and raised his arms, stretching his muscles as best as he could. One more day of this and Sherlock would probably have figured it out he thought. Looking at his arm he grimaced. Under the neat rows of cigarette burns there was a blistered raw patch. He squinted hard at it trying to figure out the shape. Snorting he shook his head as he recognized the SH. This Victor lacked in imagination. Seb must have taught him some basic techniques but John was pretty sure Seb would even laugh at Victor’s attempts. Sure hurting a person physically was part of the torture but if you couldn’t scare or break your way into the persons psyche the pain was just going to be pain. The most effective torture always accomplished both and clearly Seb hadn’t finished training Victor in that aspect.The closest Victor had come had been the drugs he kept pumping John full of. He looked down at the new track mark in his arm. Not that John would be the one to be affected by that. John worried more for Sherlock in that aspect hoping he hadn’t picked up on it in any of the video. The pain was inconsequential at the moment. I mean yea it hurt like hell, John thought, but it would pass.

            John was fairly sure that if Victor really knew how much more damage he could do to Sherlock seeing John reacting to drugs as opposed to John being beat up or burned he would be around more when John was high, mocking him for the camera to hear.  As it was he usually just drugged him and left indicating that Sherlock wasn’t seeing the footage of him high as a kite.

            The voices upstairs where getting louder and he heard the door open. John looks up seeing Victor making his way downstairs this time with to burly mean following.

            “Time for your next dose Johnny boy.” Victor smiled and motioned to his minions. The moved to hold John down while Victor prepared his needle. “This cocktail’s a bit different, I hope you like it.” He said with a wink as he plunged the needle into John’s arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all still like where this is going. I am also hoping you could guess since it isn't clearly stated that what is happening to John is a few hours ahead of what is happening with everyone else. I have also gone through the first two chapters a few times and fixed a few errors, I am sure to catch some in this one as well so bear with me. 
> 
> Please let me know how you are liking it!


	4. Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John gets to find out what Moriarty meant about being burned. Lucky him. Meanwhile everyone else sorts through feelings. yay?

 4. Conversations

            John watched Victor and his goon’s retreat to their room. Physically he felt the same as the other times Victor had given him the drug except this time he wasn’t paralyzed. He looked down at his bound hands and his mind registered they were bound with simple rope not metal chains like his feet. The way they were bound was rather unusual as well. His hands weren’t bound close together like he had first suspected. They had wrapped the rope tightly around one wrist then leaving about four inches of rope to spare in between his wrists then secured his other hand. Curious John thought. Unless…… He looked up at the ceiling and caught the hook hanging from a chain in the ceiling. Fabulous. They were planning on hanging him from his arms again. Christ his shoulder already ached.

            John clambered onto his feet and starting pacing as much as the chain on his foot would allow. He was curious what this new ‘cocktail’ was going to do. He already felt the high of the cocaine twice as much as before, whether that was due to the lack of paralytic in his system or something new he wasn’t sure. Either way he needed to accomplish his next idea before anything new set in. He walked as far as his restraint would allow. Smiling as he was able to reach one of the walls. He looked up at the dilapidated building searching for anything sharp sticking out of it. He searched the floors as well. Slowly he moved about sweeping out in a large circle around the room still searching. Finally he spotted a rusty nail in one corner. He had to lie on the floor and reach with everything he had for it but eventually his fingers clasped around the object. He suddenly remembered the camera and looked over his shoulder at the glaring red light. Opting to stay in his position where the camera could only see him lying on the floor he began to take the nail, which was surprisingly sharp, and saw through the rope that held his wrists together. Not all the way through, just enough to weaken it considerably. If they did plan on hanging him from his arms he needed it to still hold but with the weakened rope he hoped that if he needed to he would be able to break it by force. He sawed around the edges trying to make it inconspicuous. It also helped that the cut was partially hidden near one of his wrists. If he had chosen the middle of the rope it would have been more obvious.

            John felt his body start to get extremely hot and his heart rate was increasing drastically. He shuddered a bit at the sudden temperature change. From behind him he heard the door open again. Quickly he threw the nail a foot away and tried to make it appear as if he was trying to reach it.

            “Are you feeling rather hot now Johnny???” He heard Victor taunt behind him. “I made this new cocktail myself. Even I’m not sure of everything it will do.” He chuckled “Although I have a general idea.”

            He could tell Victor was now standing behind him but just barely. He was no longer pretending to reach for the nail instead trying to calm his breathing and rapid heart. The heat in his body was worsening, he felt like he was on fire from the inside out.

            “Oh oh Johnny, no nail for you!” Victor stepped around him and kicked the nail further away. Well at least that worked, Victor had believed his set up without looking too closely at his wrists. “Now since you’re a medical man I’ll tell you what I had in mind for this drug to do and when you are coherent enough to talk you can let me know how I succeeded. This is an experiment you know.” John rolled to his back relishing the cold floor on his burning skin. “First I made a concentrated quality of cocaine, had to have a base somewhere you know. To that I added this lovely little chemical that a scientist in Moscow found that heightens the effects of the cocaine to an alarming rate. With that combination alone I was able to turn a good number of people into raging addicts in a matter of days. Fun huh?” He paused. John wanted nothing more to than to tell this insane bastard where he could stick his crazy drugs but his muscles had begun to spasm painfully and he had a hard time trying to control his body under the dizzying pain let alone trying to speak. “Then I added one more element, something of my own creation. You know Jim was rather fond of it, although I guess you don’t know. I sold him a very concentrated form of it. My little creation causes the body temperature to rise and the body to feel like it is burning, blood boiling and skin incinerating. Jim’s doses literally caused his victims to burn from the inside out. Don’t worry though your cocktail had a very minor concentration.”

Minor! MINOR. His body felt like he had been thrown into the pits of hell. Literally. Christ almighty, John thought, if this was minor Moriarty’s cocktail must have been worse than every single circle of hell Dante could think of put together! His body continued to shake but the heat was finally starting to abate. After a while John felt his breathing began to normalize and the shakes began to dissipate.

“Well I wouldn’t get comfortable, you have your second dose in an hour Johnny boy.” Victor said from across the room. John hadn’t realized Victor had moved while he had been incapacitated. He heard Victor laugh once more before a door clicked shut. Bloody fucking Christ! One more hour and then another round of hell. Sherlock get your ass here soon, John thought.

 

 

 

Sherlock didn’t actually notice that Sally had driven them until they had reached Baker Street. He was too caught up in thinking about John, or rather trying not to dwell on John hurting and trying to figure out where he was. Sally snapped her fingers in front of his face bringing him back to reality. Only then did he realize she was with him and that they had arrived. He scrambled out of the car and into 221B Sally right behind him. Mrs. Hudson was tidying up the downstairs hallway and turned to greet him.

“Sherlock! How good it is to see you! I guess you are back for good now!!! Where is John dear? Did you leave him someplace?” She asked looking behind him and only seeing Sally.

“Kidnapped Mrs. Hudson! No time!” He swept past her and up the stairs.

He vaguely heard her gasp in shock and Sally’s declaration that they would find him. He was already in John’s room scouring the wall when he heard Sally behind him.  

“She didn’t seem all that surprised to see you, she in on the secret too?”

“Of course, couldn’t risk her having a heart attack at seeing me again.” Sherlock said dismissively. Truthfully had he not told her she probably would have hit him to death with her frying pan and then John as well for letting him do it. It was in general just safer all around to have her in it. Telling her also had the advantage of getting free tea and biscuits everyday while they had planned.

“Those two should get a bloody Oscar for their acting skills.” Sally muttered under her breath. Sherlock smirked at her before stepping over to John’s desk and looking for Victor’s file that was sure to be there. He found it and took it back to the wall opening it up. Sally had moved to stand next to him in front of Victor’s picture. He scanned the info in the file before turning back to the wall. He found a thread tacked to Victor’s picture and followed it up towards another man’s picture that had been crossed out.

“Moran.” He said.

“Who?” Sally asked looking up at the new photo.

“Sebastian Moran, he was one of Moriarty’s snipers and rumor was that he was his right hand man.”

“He was one of the snipers that we found dead! I remember because he was found so different to all the others.”

“What do you mean?” Sherlock turned to look at her.

“Well for one he looked like he had just had a visitor for another he had a disturbing smile on his face.”

Sherlock frowned at this information and went back over to the stacks of files. He searched until he found Moran’s file tucking it behind Victor’s. Taking one more cursory look over the wall he looked back at Sally who was now txting furiously.

“Time to head back to Scotland Yard I want to look at the Yard’s case files for Moran and the other snipers”

“I’d complain that we just got here but Lestrade wants you to look at the CCTV footage. He says something about it is tricky and they need your eye.” She looked up at him. He rolled his eyes and headed for the stairs.

“They should just ask Mycroft, he’s nearly as good as I am. Least he could do is help instead of standing around looking like someone shoved his infernal umbrella up his arse.” He barked irately.

“Lestrade says that he disappeared.” She replied as they trotted down the stairs.

“He never did like legwork, although I had thought that since it was John he might get a bit more involved. Ugh I never thought I would actually wish for my brother to get _more_ involved in my life.” He scoffed. “Remind me to yell at John when we find him for being the cause of that!”

Sally tried her hardest not to hit him for that comment instead taking pleasure in making his ride back to the Yard rather harrowing. She braked as hard as she could at every stop and took turns wildly causing Sherlock to crash into his door repeatedly. When she finally parked he grabbed his files and scrambled from the car as if she had set him on fire. She followed him into the building with a smile on her face. Sherlock threw himself in front of Greg with a look of vengeance in his eyes.

“If you EVER let her drive me anywhere again I will make it my personal mission to become an even bigger pain in your ass than I am now!” Sherlock threatened before moving off to a table and settling down to pour over the information he had acquired.

Greg turned to Sally with a questioning and somewhat amused expression on his face. She just smiled and headed to pull the snipers files for Sherlock. Greg just chuckled slightly vowing to get the full story later before turning to back to see if Sherlock had any new information.

He gave up the idea of trying to get Sherlock to look at the CCTV footage when he saw Sherlock’s hands steepled under his chin focused intently on something that was most definitely not in the file in front of him. Sighing he sat to work on the map he had started while he waited for Sherlock to mentally join them again.

Sally returned bringing a stack of files and placing them in front of Sherlock before sitting opposite Greg. She looked at the map and at him raising her eyebrow.

“I’m plotting all of the abandoned factories in the area. There is still 45 but at least it is a smaller list than we had before.” Greg says picking up another pushpin. Sally nods and starts to help.

“How are you holding up?” Sally inquires softly. She was the only one at the Yard who had an inkling of whatever it was that he felt towards John.

“I’m still in shock to be honest.” He admitted finally. “I had always thought of John as such a quiet and unassuming guy. I still can’t believe what Mycroft and Sherlock were insinuating.” He sighed.

“It is a rather different view of him but I can’t say I am honestly that surprised.” Sally admitted.

“How did this not surprise you??”

“Well remember back to that first case with John? The cabbie? We all know John’s the one who shot him. You heard what the ballistics guys said about that shot and rightly so! It was pretty damn impressive! Not to mention all the times when Sherlock and John caught a criminal after a chase and the criminal would be knocked out, tied up or incapacitated in some other way. Sherlock and John standing there with barely a scratch on them.”

“I always assumed that Sherlock had been the one, he always goes on and on about is martial arts abilities.”

“Hmm think back on it. How many of those occasions ended in Sherlock getting slightly hurt as well where John got by unscathed with only dirt or blood on him that wasn’t even his own? I don’t think Sherlock’s reflexes are as fast as he would have you believe.”

“You seem rather in awe of John’s capabilities.” Greg said with a quirk of his brow.

“Well aren’t you? I mean those videos shesh! I don’t know how he stood them all without making a sound! I mean he actually managed to seem rather bored by it all, like it was all an inconvenience really. The only time he let on it wasn’t was when he was branded.”

“Please Sally don’t remind me. I’ll admit to being impressed when we’ve found him.” Greg groaned. They continued placing pins in silence, Greg glancing over at Sherlock every once in while.

 

 

           

            Mycroft splashed his face with water once more trying to pull himself together. John would be fine really, he told himself, he had had far worse damage in the past. He straightened and patted his face dry with his handkerchief.

            When he had first kidnapped John to threaten and intimidate him he had found that he was actually rather amused by the soldier. When he looked further into John’s record, for the safety of his brother of course, he had found that he even admired the man. He was also tempted by the idea of getting him to work for MI6 as well. Of course that had all been thrown out the window when he saw how good the doctor was for his brother. John was able to coax the good out of Sherlock like no one else he had ever seen. No, he soon found himself unwilling to put John in harms way, even if he would be perfect for some of the missions.

            Sherlock and John had done a good job of keeping their more intimate relationship from everyone, including him. He had found out their secret leaps ahead of the others but he was still shocked nonetheless. He had then started to keep tabs on the doctor for his safety of course. He couldn’t risk his brother loosing something so dear, not when Sherlock was finally starting to deserve it.

With one final sigh he walked out of the men’s room trying his best to look like is usual unaffected self.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How is everyone? Still hanging in there? Don't worry baring any sudden inspirations this should be wrapped up in two more installments. Don't want to kill poor John now do we?  
> In other news: I'm considering making this part of a series, is anyone interested?


	5. Explanations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock finally gets his act together and finds John thanks to the sentiment that clouds our kidnappers mind.

 5. Explanations 

“Oh!” Sherlock suddenly gasped. Greg jumped startled from the sudden outburst. He looked over to where Sherlock was sporadically searching through the files that Sally had left him.

“Share with the class Sherlock.” He pleaded standing up to join him at the far end of the table. “Why do you need pictures of one of the snipers crime scenes?” he asked puzzled looking down at the photos Sherlock was now ordering on the table.

“John new him.”

“He what?” Greg asked, “How do you know that?”

“Look here, clearly Moran knew his killer Lestrade, he was having tea with him moments before he was shot. Why would John chat to him before killing him unless he knew him? He didn’t do that with any of the others.”

“How do you know? John could have chatted to the others before he shot them and just cleared away the mess.” Anderson asked from a chair across the room.

“No no no, the other snipers he shot from a distance, through one of the windows likely. No this one, Moran was different.” He glanced back at John’s file on Moran.

“Through a window?” Sally quirked an eyebrow “Are you saying he sniped his own snipers?”

“John is an excellent marksman Sally and they were aiming for Mrs. Hudson as well though she is hardly capable of taking them out. She has a hip you know.” Sherlock quipped as he sifted through more of John’s notes trying to decipher his scrawled shorthand completely missing Sally’s look of awe and Greg’s of distressed surprise.

“So he knew Moran how? And why would he want to have tea with him before killing him? I’d think that would make it harder Sherlock.” Greg said picking up a photo of Moran’s flat.

“That’s what I have been trying to understand. John knew him from his days in Afghanistan clearly. Moran and he both trained together, again that bit is rather obvious, look at the matching tattoos. Moran was discharged a month before John got shot although he was sent home for less than honorable reasons.”

“Ok so dishonorably discharged soldier home and in in need of money turns to paid sniper for hire?” Sally asks.

“Yes in a sense although I suspect he did more for Moriarty than just shooting people. According to John’s file he was highly skilled at torture techniques.” Sherlock turned and began to pace the floor as he explained. “So John knew him from his past but why would he want to sit and talk. Clearly John wanted information from him but what? He had already established most of Moriarty’s web in London what more information could he need?” He looked at them. “Come on people keep up! It’s so obvious! I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.”

“John figured out that Moran wasn’t Moriarty’s right hand man so to speak.” They all turned to see Mycroft walking in looking oddly off kilter without his umbrella swinging from his hands.

“Oh splendid you’ve decided to help.” Sherlock rolled his eyes.

“What do you mean Moran wasn’t his right hand?” Sally snapped him back to his explanation.

“Moran was just a front. If you really look at it he doesn’t make sense as Moriarty’s second. He doesn’t have the intelligence for one. Sure he had an alarming number of helpful skills but none that would help Moriarty run things smoothly apart from killing or threatening people. No he doesn’t factor into the planning and running of the organization beyond that. Victor is our man.”

“Victor, the psychopath who has John tied up somewhere torturing him, Victor? Bloody fantastic.” Greg groaned rubbing his face in his hands.

“Yes Victor. John and I had already worked out that Victor had a high standing with Moriarty. He was the major link in great number of Moriarty’s drug activities. Makes sense seeing as he owns a drug research company. Perfect front. So John worked out that Victor had a greater roll and needed more information. Hence the tea with Moran before he shot him.”

“And Moran told him that easily?” Sally asked incredulously.

“I’m not entirely sure about why he gave any information up so easily, I would have to talk to John to be 100% sure but Moran was a dishonorable man so whose to say why really.” Sherlock answered with a shrug.

“If Victor is John’s captor and Moriarty’s second in command so to speak why the hell do we need to worry about Moran anyway? What does this have to do with anything?”

“Everything.” Sherlock spat out and resumed his pacing. “From what I can decipher from John’s notes, he really should use a more recognizable shorthand, Moran was linked far closer to Victor’s businesses than Moriarty’s. He might have done jobs for Moriarty but Victor was the one who had hired him when he first got back to London. Victor was the one to sponsor him so to speak.”

“I’m still missing why this is important Sherlock.” Greg sat down and continued to watch as Sherlock wore a hole in the carpet.

“Of course you do.” Sherlock rolled his eyes. “It is important because Victor is obsessed with Moran.”

“What makes you say that?” Sally asked picking up John’s folder of data.

“Well the biggest indicator is that he let Moran take all the credit for his criminal endeavors.”

“Why?” Greg asked.

“Because Moran craved power. It was what he loved above all, so Victor gave it to him. He allowed him to be the front for his criminal proceedings. Only Moriarty knew the truth.” Sherlock paused, “And that is why Moran matters. Whatever this is, it is because of Moran.”

“How does knowing his motive help us find John Sherlock? Nothing in what you just explained gives us any clue as to where he is being held!” Greg said exasperated. Sherlock rolled his eyes and walked to the screen.

“You never learn do you?” He switched his attention to the video tech, “Show me the CCTV footage.”

“Learn what?” Greg growled at him.

“Criminals are more likely to mess up when sentiment is involved. Likely Victor has already made his mistake, now kindly desist talking.” Sherlock snapped back and focused on the CCTV footage.

The footage showed John leaving the surgery like normal only to collapse moments later as he passed by an alleyway. At that point three vans pulled up partially blocking the cameras view. Some movement could be seen beyond the vans but not enough to make anything out clearly. A few more moments and the vans speed off leaving no sight of John.

“The vans are identical in every way?” Sherlock asked.

“Yes and they all drive about the city before heading in three different directions.” Anderson responds.

“Clever.” Sherlock looks mildly impressed before turning away from the screen. “Where do the vans head? Assuming they leave city limits enough to loose cameras?” Greg moves over to the map he and Sally had been working on.

“They go out of the CCTV zone here, here and here.” Greg points at three locations on the map. Sherlock stalks over to the table and grabs a pen and marks the map vaguely where Greg pointed. He pauses and looks up at Mycroft.

“Presumably the vans have not been seen on any of the footage since they were lost?” he asks to which Mycroft shakes his head. “That means they haven’t brought him back into the zone where we could keep tabs on them so we can eliminate any of the factories in this area.” He responds and draws a rough circle around a rough estimate of the CCTV cameras coverage.

“They could have changed vehicles and come back just to through you off.” Anderson says behind him. Sherlock snorts.

“No they wouldn’t do that, they know I have a brother high up. Why would they risk John being seen in any of the cameras when they transferred him from car to building.” Greg looked down at the map starting to feel hopeful, only around 12 factories that fit their criteria where in the running now.

            “Ok so now how do we narrow it down further?” He asked Sherlock warily.

            “We need a list of who owns those factories, see if Victor is among them.” Sally nods and races off.

            “You think he would be stupid enough to hold John in his own building?”

            “Of course he is, that way he won’t be disturbed. Also if I’m alive like he suspects it is the easiest way lead me to him no doubt banking on the polices inability to put the pieces together fast enough to catch him.” Sally hurries back to him handing him a printout.

            “Here is a list of who holds those properties.”  She says as Sherlock snatches it from her hands and scans the list. Victor’s name was nowhere on the list. However, his eyes zeroed in on another familiar name. Sebastian Moran.

            “Sentiment.” He sneered and walked to his brother pointing at an address. “We need to get to this address now, you presumably are offering back up?”

            “Of course they will meet you there.” He turned typing the address into his phone. Sherlock nodded then turned and raced from the room assuming they would all follow. Greg’s huffing and Sally’s quick steps behind him confirmed it.

            “Sherlock how are you so sure? Why would he want to lead you to him?”

            “Because Moran was shot and he wants revenge.”

            “Yes but John did that not you.” Greg said.

            “Victor doesn’t know that and I would like to keep it that way. I shudder to think what he would do if he found out John was responsible.”

 

 

 

 

            John sighed as the burning of the last injection began to fade finally. He had endured three more doses of Victors hellfire drug. He groaned feeling rough hands pulling him up off the floor. He was handed roughly as he was carried across the room, his arms manhandled above him. When he finally opened his eyes they told him what his already aching body knew. He was once again hanging by his arms from the chain attached to the ceiling, his right ankle throbbing slightly as the weight of the still attached shackle pulled it roughly down.

            “Now Johnny, are you ready for our next game? You’ll have to smile pretty for the camera. It’s about time your friends down at Scotland Yard got another calling card.” Victor smiled at him from across the room. He was standing in front of a table that held a number of deadly looking items, no doubt ones he had gotten from Seb. “What should we start with first hm???” Victor’s fingers trailed over a few knives before settling on a two-inch think pipe. “Don’t get disappointed Johnny boy, we’ll get to the knives.” John just rolled his eyes. Victor circled him and suddenly hit John’s back five times in rapid succession. Pausing Victor circled back around to look at John in the face. John sucked in the pain and was able to resume his mask of indifference by the time Victor had looked up at him.

            “You know I’m rather disappointed Sherly hasn’t saved you yet. I would have thought he would have cared more about is toy soldier.” He taunted. He pulled the pipe back prepared to swing again when there was a loud noise from Victor’s upstairs headquarters. Victor turned at the sound looking mildly more excited. “Oh goody maybe he hasn’t disappointed. You two go see what that is all about.” He ordered the two goons who had been keeping watch at the base of the stairs.

Finally! John thought. It was about bloody time! Now to distract Victor while Sherlock makes his way down here. He cleared his throat bringing Victor’s attention back to him.

“At least my keeper as you call him returns my affections. Not like Seb huh Victor?” John said cracking a grin at Victor’s indignant gasp. “Must’ve galled you to see him go to Moriarty over you, after all you gave him.” Victor snapped swinging the pipe fast in a wide arc. It smacked against John’s right knee roughly, causing him to swear loudly to every deity know to man. The blow sent him careening wildly to the side his ankle popping ever so slightly sending a new shooting pain up his leg to meet the throbbing ache radiating from his knee. John also felt the bond at his wrist strain and slip ever so slightly above him. Grinning through the pain he swore a few more times before refocusing on Victor. There was another commotion from above and Victor turned causally as Sherlock burst through the door followed by Greg and a few other armed men, Mycroft’s presumably.

“Nice of you to turn up Sherly, we’ve been waiting for hours.” Victor mocked while pulling a gun out of pocket to point at John. “Now I can have my revenge for what you did to Moran, only I am going to make you watch me kill him.” John snorts from behind him. Victor snaps his head at John and takes a step towards him.

“Oh Victor, if you would have just asked I would have told you long ago. Sherlock didn’t shoot Seb.” John grinned at Victor’s enraged expression, “I did.” John announced before lifting his weight up as much as he could and then yanking his body down hard on the fraying rope. He groaned with the effort feeling his shoulder move out of socket. The rope snapped however letting John fall. His non-injured arm reaching out and swiping Victors gun down effectively ripping it out of his hand and sending it skittering across the floor before John finally collasped to the ground unable to brace his weight on his injured leg. He heard a shot and was vaguely aware of hearing Victor fall to the ground with a cry.

“John!” he heard Sherlock cry and only moments later the frantic looking detective came into his view.

“About time you showed up.” John smiled at him in reassurance. Sherlock sank to the floor and pulled John carefully into his lap.

“Oh John.” Was all Sherlock seemed able to say as he stared at John, struggling to contain his emotions.

“I’ll be ok love.” John patted Sherlock’s hand. “Although that bastard ruined my favorite jumper.” He said with a small smile. At this Sherlock chuckled and replied.

“I’ll by you a new one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew that was intense. Ok one more to go guys! I do love these madmen. ;) 
> 
> As always let me know if there is a blatant error or if you think something doesn't make sense.
> 
> Thank you for all your support on my first fic, you have know idea how much it means! I am planning on making this a series now and am currently mapping it it out although any new update besides the wrap-up here (which you will get tomorrow I promise) will probably take a few days to post while I finish planning and start executing. One of my biggest questions though is what would you like to see in future installments? Because honestly you never know what you'll get next if you leave me to my own devices. I have my own ideas that will all eventually be tackled but what would you guys be interested in seeing next?
> 
> fluffy cuddles? More John backstory? How John and Sherlock got together? Serious? funny? both? Greg? Mycroft? dare I say Mystrade???


	6. Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Sherlock reveal they are both secretly insane men and also in a committed relationship. Greg comes to terms with John being John.

6\. Alive

 

            John felt like shit. Ugh well that is what happens when you endure torture at the hands of an insane drug lord with a grudge. He wished he could just go back to sleep but voices around him were making that rather difficult. He wearily opened one eye to see if it would be wise to make it know he was awake. Greg was seated in the corner talking animatedly with none other than Sally Donovan. Strange, John thought, why would she care to be here unless it was police business? John focused in on their conversation and found that Greg was recounting the scene at the factory to her.

            “You should have bloody seen him! I would punch him for being so unnecessarily stupid. We were right there! There was no need to damage himself further.” Greg said in an annoyed huff.

            “It all sounds rather impressive and slightly terrifying if you ask me.” Sally moved to look his direction. John quickly shut his eyes to feign sleep. If Greg was just waiting for him to be awake so he could yell at him then he would have to wait forever.

            “He dislocated his shoulder on purpose Sally!!! That is MENTAL not impressive!”

            “I think you need to come to terms with the man he is and not who you thought he was. He likes danger and adrenaline and insane sociopathic idiots. He isn’t going to change. ” Sally said quietly.

            “This isn’t bloody about that!!!” Greg almost yelled.

            “Sush do you want the Freak to wake up again? He just fell asleep!” Sally reprimanded him. Her tone was mild and almost parental which filled John with relief. The half-hearted ‘freak’ had sounded almost like an endearment. Clearly something had happened to get her to warm to Sherlock.

He cautiously opened his eyes again and looked to his right. Sherlock had indeed fallen asleep. He was hunched over John’s bed. His head rested on an arm, his face was turned towards John. Sherlock’s hand was inches from John’s as if he had been clasping it and released it unconsciously in his sleep. John smiled. It had been a long while since he had had Sherlock by his side and vice versa. God was he glad that Moriarty was finally dealt so he could stay there. He quietly watched the detective’s face, tuning out Greg and Sally’s bickering. He watched curiously has Sherlock’s face began to contort, his hand clenching tightly.

“No….John! No….” Sherlock mumbled.

“Sherlock I’m right here, I’m safe.” He said quietly. Tentatively he reached out and placed his hand on Sherlock’s mop of curls stroking him softly. “Sherlock, wake up love, I’m right here.”

Sherlock’s breath hitched and his eyes snapped open. He looked up at John with panicked and exhausted looking eyes.

“Come here love.” John said softly reaching for him. Sherlock just looked at him and then at John’s arm in a sling and to where his leg rested in a cast “I won’t break Sherlock, come here.” John said with a smile. Relenting Sherlock stood and leaned forward accepting John’s embrace. John pulled him down to sit on the side of the bed. He stroked Sherlock’s back gently with his left arm while Sherlock buried his face in his undamaged shoulder. “Talk to me love. Talking through them always helps.”

“I just--” Sherlock paused letting out a long shaky breath, “I just kept watching you be tortured to death. I couldn’t help you and you just--”

“It’s ok, but look I am fine, I’m right here with you.” At this Sherlock snorted and looked up at John.

“I would hardly call a broken leg, dislocated shoulder a number of cuts, burns, broken and bruised ribs ok. Lets not forget the drug withdrawals and collapsed lung as well!” Sherlock huffed.

“Collapsed lung? Well I guess that is why it hurts to breathe a little. When did that happen exactly? I don’t remember having that injury when I was last conscious. Also I thought Victor hit my knee?” John asked him.

“The idiot paramedics jostled you causing a fractured rib to break and puncture your lung. You had already passed out so it’s no wonder that you don’t remember it. Victor hit that approximate area but it was the upper fibula that broke, not to mention a break in the ankle from the shackle.” He frowned, “I’m more worried about the withdrawal.”

“I’ll get through it no big deal. I don’t think it will be as bad as yours was, even with Victor’s crazy unknown concoction. I was only given 6 doses. It will be hard but then I know someone who has been through it all before and probably knows all sorts of ways to help.” John winked at him.

“I am sorry I didn’t get to you sooner, I could have saved you from all this pain.” Sherlock said softly.

“Christ Sherlock, I didn’t think this would affect you quite so badly. Really I have had worse I’ll be fine. I’m just luckily that it wasn’t Moran to be honest, I would be entirely broken if it had been Seb.”

“John your body looks awfully broken from where I am.” Sherlock said with a scowl.

“I much prefer this, you would too trust me.” John sighed. “I don’t think I will have a single nightmare about this to be honest.” Sherlock’s frown deepened.

“Explain.”

“Moran would have not only broken me physically but he would have broken me mentally as well. That man knew how to waltz into people’s minds and stamp around like it was his own private playground. Victor’s attempts were laughable in comparison. Torture takes a certain creativity. I mean did you see the brand he gave me? No imagination.” Sherlock quirked a smile at this.

“How could I not? I always did want my initials on you, although I would rather it not have been a crazy psychopath that put it there.”

“Prefer a high-functioning sociopath to have done it instead hm?” John grinned.

“Precisely.” Sherlock smiled back.

“Ugh I think I am going to be sick! You to insane bastards deserve each other.” Sally piped up from the other side of the room.

John froze; he had forgotten they weren’t alone. Sherlock had never been comfortable about being open about their relationship. He waited for Sherlock to react, to pull away. Sherlock blinked once in surprise and looked over at Sally who had a slight smirk on her face and Greg who looked mildly horrified at his and John’s conversation. Looking back at John he smiled again.

“No, John deserves much better but I am going to keep him anyway.” At this John relaxed and pulled Sherlock into another embrace.

            “Blech, I am going to go grab some coffee.” Sally stood and headed for the door.

            “I think I’ll come as well.” Sherlock said pulling away. He gave John a kiss on his forehead before standing and following her.

            John looked over at Greg who had also stood up and moved a bit closer. Greg looked worried, angry and a bit scared.

            “I’m not sorry Greg, Yes my actions taking down Moriarty’s web were dangerous but I won’t apologize for it. I would do it over again in a heartbeat. I am sorry I lied to you however.” Greg deflated a bit.

            “You should be a bloody actor the way you had us all fooled. Both of you.” He cracked a half-hearted smile. “How did I somehow miss the fact that my best mate was an insane adrenaline junkie with a trigger finger?”

            “Oh Greg, what would Sherlock say? You _see_ but you do not _observe_.” John quipped in his best Sherlock impression. Greg smiled in earnest now both of them chuckling a little.

            “Well it will take some getting used to.”

            “I’m still John. I still love tea, horrible jumpers, James Bond films, and a good pint with my mates.  I am still a doctor and a soldier and I am still your friend.” John finished with a small smile.

            “Yes I do believe you are.” Greg nodded and moved to the door and was stopped short by Sherlock entering with two cups of tea.

            “Here John I convinced one of the nurses to make us some tea.”

            “I’ll be back around for statements eventually.” Greg said from the doorway. Sherlock waved at him dismissively. John smiled his way and saluted him.

            Sherlock and John talked a little longer before John began to tire again. Then he just passively sat and listened to Sherlock explain one of his missions in Serbia as he slowly drifted off.

            Sherlock smiled as he saw John’s eyes slide close. He leaned forward and kissed John’s cheek before settling down in his chair content to watch John rest.

 

John’s quiet voice spoke one last time. “I plan on keeping you too.” He said softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it :) I wanted to leave it on a happier note and it ended up a bit shorter than the other chapters but there really wasn't much left that I wanted to cover in this particular story. There are a lot of things left un-explained that will be addressed in a later fic don't worry it will be revealed in due course. It will all make sense eventually....I hope. :) 
> 
> The next bit will likely be a prequel about how these two idiots got together in the first place seeing as the fic that comes chronologically after this one is taking a bit more time to plan. I also plan on making future fics a bit longer as well so that's adding time on.
> 
> Look for a new update with the next part of the series in a few days! 
> 
> thanks again for all the support and interest! You guys have been great!


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